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a-cloud-for-dreams · 1 year ago

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Detective Haelyn Rózsa

Name: Haelyn "Lyn" Rózsa

Meaning(s): Gift from God/Honorable/Love & Protection (Haelyn) and Rose (Rózsa)

Face Claim: Kelsey Merritt

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday/Zodiac: November 18 (Scorpio)

Love Interest: Trystan Thorne

Family:

NOTE: I know I promised to follow the actual CoP MC's background and be normal but ofc I found a way to unnecessarily connect characters and bring back old MC and OCs I didn't use so enjoy imao

Distant Maternal Great Grandmother: Raine Nightbloom Distant Maternal Great Grandfather: Tyril Starfury Distant Maternal Grandmother: Eclipse Sarenya Nightfury

Maternal Grandfather: Beckham D'Souza Maternal Grandmother: Londyn Wolfe (Pia Wurtzbach-Jauncey) Mother: Diamond Wolfe Maternal Uncle: Nasriyan Wolfe Paternal Great Grandmother: Vanadey Silva (Warrior Nun) Father: Jacques Rózsa Paternal Uncle: Thomas Rózsa

Goddaughter: Cirilla Watanabe-Webster

Pet: Paris (Former Stray Dog)

Quick Background: (subject to change)

Diamond and her younger brother Nasriyan were raised in a life of crime. She's part of the largest and wealthiest American mafia crime families and, of course, despises any kind of law enforcement.

One day, she accidentally bumped into a man while waiting in line to get coffee at a cafe, where she was supposed to meet a contact. The man she bumped into would be Jacques Rózsa, who would later be revealed as a new police officer. That same night, she met him again at the same bar, and it felt like fate.

They spent more time together in secret to avoid her family's prying eyes, and eventually fell deeply in love with each other. Diamond felt super conflicted because interacting with Jacques clashed with the beliefs she was raised with, but she admired how genuine Jacques felt about wanting to help others. She eventually eloped with him, had a small wedding with only a few trusted guests, and moved back to his hometown in New York. Here, they opened The Drunk Tank and stayed under the radar.

Keep in mind, that Jacques still wasn't aware that his wife was part of a crime family he had been assigned to arrest. The case always fascinated him but has been unsolved largely due to their influence and power within higher-ranking officials. He became extremely passionate about the case and was determined to be the officer to solve it. Somewhere along the line, they had Haelyn and they were all super happy.

But then, Diamond's brother Nasriyan finds out they're in New York, and they have an ultimatum: do certain tasks for the family (she isn't officially registered on any wanted lists) and he'll turn a blind eye. So she did these tasks and slowly got back into the life of crime and violence she was happy to escape from.

Jacques eventually connects the dots and confronts Diamond's parents without knowing they're related. He knows the Wolfe leaders had a daughter, but she didn't seem relevant as she either died or ran away. He ends up having to kill the parents, but her younger brother escapes and lives on the run. Now, the whole Wolfe family is in shambles. Diamond realizes she could never live a content idyllic life and leaves her husband and daughter to go back. She couldn't bear to tell Jacques she had lied about her family history and left him a letter saying that she had to prioritize her duty etc. Jacques and Thomas were both heartbroken and lied to Haelyn so she wouldn't have to feel any guilt.

Haelyn lives a relatively normal life until her dad was killed when she was 13 supposedly by her own uncle, revealing Diamond's darkest secret in Jacques's last moments. Diamond eventually finds him and sends him to some confinement where he cannot escape. When she returns in Book 3, she and her daughter work together to track down Jacques's killer

Romance Route: (subject to change)

A) Book 1 and Book 2 Events B) Trystan is coronated and does not abdicate the throne. This means he is still temporarily engaged to Princess Jia; Haelyn felt the wisest decision would be to break up before the situation gets messy a lil too late but okay C) A crime happens (ex. someone stole royal jewels) and he hires the best private detective he knows and trusts to solve the case D) She solves the case and heads back as quickly as she can because it hurts being around someone she would never be able to be with. When she gets back, her mother reappears and sets off the Book 3 plot of finding the truth about Haelyn's father's death E) Trystan hears about this through Luke and Ruby and flies out immediately (Marguerite joins in later). He says he has business to attend to in America and says he'll be back in time for engagement planning F) They solve the case and Trystan heads back, inviting the whole gang to the engagement. At the last minute, like what happens in the Book 2 finale, he reveals his true feelings and abdicates the throne. Princess Jia didn't want to be married and Trystan wasn't interested in their arranged marriage or the Drakovian throne so it was a win-win situation G) They all live happily ever after THE END

Trivia:

She's never been in a romantic relationship. Ever. She's been interested in people before but she's never officially dated since she was super busy and not the best at initiating/maintaining close long-term relationships. Trystan was her first boyfriend and last boyfriend

She is fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, and eventually proficient in Drakovian and Filipino

She’s left handed and sketches in her free time, or whenever he’s having trouble solving a case

Haelyn Rózsa's Dossier (made by @storyofmychoices!)

#she's my other MC whose backstory is a lil more tied to the real CoP MC in case anyone was confused #playchoices #choices book club #haelstan🌹#haelyn rózsa oc #crimes of passion 2 #pretty people edits 💕#crimes of passion #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #ruby webster #luke watanabe #bisexual #eclipse sarenya nightfury oc #raine nightbloom #tyraine 💫

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m58 · 1 year ago

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two from Frederick Pollack

The Clouds

Not angels, philosophers hover over the chair you fall asleep in. Tonight a new one, chafing at the constraints – attitudinal, ontological – imposed by the Department (itself defunded and exiguous), has come to tell you no possible ethic applies to you, that what you do is good though futile and you might as well sleep, that sleep is the wisdom of gladiators.

Nature Center

It was the way it raised its head from the leaves and moss and bits of what might have been food, and tasted the air, and stared from behind its glass. That gaze stilled a third of the busful of kids that had suddenly descended. “Why doesn’t he have feet?” – one broke, eventually, the spell. But their teacher was engaged with the noisy others, and I said, “They evolved from a lizard that burrowed underground. Limbs got in the way. And his eyes have a shield that nothing can scratch. Actually, they evolved many times in many places.” But now the teacher was approaching, smiling, uncertain how to react: I wasn’t official, just a visitor who knew things, and thought it best to leave. There’s a rule: keep it brief. Avoid eye contact.

Frederick Pollack is the author of two book-length narrative poems, THE ADVENTURE and HAPPINESS, both Story Line Press; the former reissued 2022 by Red Hen Press. Two collections of shorter poems, A POVERTY OF WORDS, (Prolific Press, 2015) and LANDSCAPE WITH MUTANT (Smokestack Books, UK, 2018). Pollack has appeared in Salmagundi, Poetry Salzburg Review, The Fish Anthology (Ireland), Magma (UK), Bateau, Fulcrum, Chiron Review, Chicago Quarterly Review, etc. Online, poems have appeared in Big Bridge, Hamilton Stone Review, BlazeVox, The New Hampshire Review, Mudlark, Rat’s Ass Review, Faircloth Review, Triggerfish, etc.

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insidethekaleidoscope · 8 months ago

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Adding this passage because it's so achingly beautiful, and one of those things that has rolled around continuously in my head ever since I read it:

Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds. This is the title of a short scientific report from 2006, and the moths are a species on the island of Madagascar named Hemiceratoides hieroglyphica, but the title is a sentence, and the sentence reads like a ballad of one line or a history compressed down to its barest essentials. There are two protagonists in it, a sleeper and a drinker, a giver and a taker, and what are tears to the former is food to the latter. The story tells us everything we ever wanted a story to tell. There is difference. There is contact. You can feed on sorrow. Your tears are delicious.

Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds. The sentence can run away with you until you have forgotten science and the lack of sorrow in the tears of birds—in this case magpie robins and Newtonia birds—and remembered your own tears and pictured an asymmetrical relationship in which one sleeps and one is awake, one surrenders and one acquires. One is being and the other doing. The moth is alert, at work, stealing tears and flying through the night, because there is also night in this sentence, and wings of two kinds. As though the two characters were day and night itself, or as if the drinker fed on the dreamer the way the moon reflects the light of the unseen sun. That moths drink the tears of sleeping birds is a template for many things; it is a container of the familiar made strange, of sorrow turned into sustenence, of the myriad stories the natural world provides that are as uncannily resonant as any myth. The ancient Greeks used the word psyche for breath, for life, for the vital essence of life, for the soul, and sometimes for butterflies that were the emblem of the soul.

Some species of yucca plant and of moth depend upon each other. The white moths hatch out of their cocoons as the white flowers open. They mate and the female pollinates the flowers while laying her eggs in them, so that they will produce the fruit on which her offspring will feed. The yucca survives only by the pollination efforts of this moth, the larvae survive only by consuming this particular fruit. They would not exist without each other, and yuccas of these species grown elsewhere have to be hand-pollinated.

Not all meals for moths are so exquisite or particular. A lot of butterflies and moths engage in what is called “puddling,” landing on pools of water, piles of manure, rotting fruit, to feed. Moths of the genus Calyptra, sometimes known as vampire moths, feed on vertebrate blood, and a dozen or more species of moth visit the eyes of mammals to drink fluids that provide proteins, salts, and other minerals. Mostly males drink from these sources, and their meals give them resources for the spermatophores they provide to the females of their species—a packet that contains their genes to fertilize her eggs, but also nutrients to help feed the female and create their offspring. No other kind of animal gives a gift quite like that. People like to think about butterflies and moths as though they were flying flowers, but they are fierce insects, struggling through each phase of life, spending time as caterpillars, bursting skins, dissolving selves in chrysalises and cocoons, mating in various intense and lengthy ways, devouring plant poisons to make themselves inedible, extending their extraordinarily long tongues at manure and puddles. Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds, and other moths feed at the eyes of deer, elephants, water buffalo. There are crocodile tears and moths that feed upon them. In the forests of Southeast Asia several species that feed at the eyes of human beings were documented by the patient entomologist Hans Bänziger, who remained still while they found him and fed at his, as he reported in “Remarkable New Cases of Moths Drinking Human Tears in North Thailand” in the Natural History Bulletin of the Siam Society twenty years back. He photographed one drinking from his own right eye, looking with its furry wings outspread like a tremendous tear or a misplaced brooch or a flower petal, an ornament invading his face. When another species came and drank, “I then caught the moth by cautiously lowering the wide net over my head and the moth.” Moths drink the tears. The word for teardrinkers is lachryphagous, and for the eaters of human flesh it is anthropophagous, and the rest of us feed on sorrow all the time. It is the essence of many of the most beautiful ballads and pop songs, and why sorrow and heartbreak are so delicious might have to do with the emotions it stirs in us, the empathy for others’ suffering, and the small comfort of not being alone with our own. With a sad song we feel a delicate grief, as though we mourn for three minutes a loss we can’t remember but taste again, sorrow like salt tears, and then close it up like a letter in the final notes. Sadness the blue like dusk, the reminder that all things are ephemeral, and that because there is time there is change and that another name for change, if you look back toward what is vanishing in the distance, is loss. But sadness is also beautiful, maybe because it rings so true and goes so deep, because it is about the distances in our lives, the things we lose, the abyss between what the lover and the beloved want and imagine and understand that may widen to become unbridgeable at any moment, the distance between the hope at the outset and the eventual outcome, the journeys we have to travel, including the last one out of being and on past becoming into the unimaginable: the moth flown into the pure dark. Or the flame. Australia’s golden sun moth lives a long time underground, feeding on wallaby grasses, and then metamorphoses into a moth without a mouth that has a few days to live, fly, reproduce on stored energy. Other moths and butterflies also live brief lives without eating. And other moths drink the tears of sleeping birds.

Sadness always contains distance, spaciousness, takes us away, while happiness at best brings us home to this very moment, this very place, so perhaps they are the sentiments of the far and the near (though rage and fear arise from the proximity of the unwanted as well as the absence or departure or threat of departure of the desired). Sadness and happiness—if those are even useful words, because as the years have gone by I have wondered if we want other language for emotion, if we would rather speak of deep and shallow, because the things that move people to tears are sometimes joyous and because the attempts to ward off sadness so often ward off depth instead—by distraction, for example. Certain kinds of beauty make people weep, the moments “when hope and history rhyme,” the arrival of the long-awaited, the revelation of a pattern in the universe that is also the revelation of your own power of making and perceiving order, and sometimes just extraordinarily intense beauty, including moral beauties—justice done, truth honored, order or wholeness restored. Maybe from that we can extract a definition of beauty that has more to do with depth: beauty is one of the things that make you cry and so maybe beauty is always tied up in tears. And maybe we can practice taxonomy, in this case of the things that produce tears rather than drink them. Pain. Sorrow. Loss. Joy. Pattern. Meaning. Depth. Generosity. Beauty. Reunion. Recovery. Recognition and understanding. Arrival. Love. Mortality. Precision. Or maybe we can call depth the genus and all these other things the species. Moths drink; birds sleep; there are tears; there are dreams; there is difference. A mature insect, including a moth or butterfly, is called an “imago”; the plural is “imagines,” and the cells that bring about that maturity in moths and butterflies and other flyers are called “imaginal cells.” These cells lie dormant in the larval creature and begin to reinvent it in its mature form, its imago, when the caterpillar has dissolved itself into a thick fluid and its old life is over; it’s a death and resurrection at midlife. The other meaning of the word imago is an idealized image of a person, usually a parent, formed early in life. As I was writing this I went to see my mother, and a little ways into trying to be with her in the era past, when she would murmur more than an occasional word and I would only rarely understand it, I remembered that I had a copy of Rilke’s Duino Elegies with me and read three of them to her. In one of them were the words, “what we’re now striving for was once/nearer and truer and attached to us/with infinite tenderness. Here all is distance/There it was breath. . . .” It was a good way to keep talking, and I listened too, and the familiar lines became more fiercely elegiac, more stern and wild, spoken aloud.

Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds. The birds sleep on, inadvertent givers. The moths fly on, enriched. We feed on sorrows, on stories, on the spaciousness they open up when they let us travel in our imagination beyond our own limits, when they dissolve the boundaries that confine us and urge us to extend the potentialities of our imperfect, broken, incomplete selves. Those apricots my brother brought me in three big cardboard boxes long ago, were they tears too? And this book, is it tears? Who drinks your tears, who has your wings, who hears your story? -Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

I started drawing this in March of 2020 and then left it half finished for months. I finished it in November of that year, during one of the most difficult times in my life. I was reading Hope in the Dark and truly struggling to feel it. And as much as I felt trapped in myself, Rebecca Solnit's writing has always felt a bit like the cracked open door, letting a streak of sun in to illuminate the beautiful in the mundane.

"The future is dark, with a darkness as much of the womb as the grave." - Rebecca Solnit, Hope in the Dark

#rebecca solnit #my art #pencil drawing #writing that has taken up shop inside of me

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dracowars · 3 years ago

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LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

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morganaspendragonss · 2 years ago

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i see darkness where you see light (9/9)

look what finally got written! i'm so sorry for the long wait, and thank you for your patience. and, of course, a massive thanks to my wonderful co-author @tarlos-spain, who has made this story so so special 💚

hope you have enjoyed the story and that you will enjoy this little epilogue!

ao3 | 837 words (total story 17.6k)

“I’m getting married tomorrow.”

TK smiles, twisting his engagement ring around his finger. This time tomorrow, it will be his wedding ring, and he’ll officially be Tyler Kennedy Strand-Reyes, which is definitely a mouthful, but one that TK will gladly wear. He can’t wait for that moment when he’ll stand in front of their friends and family and say “I do” to the love of his life; it feels like it’s what he’s been waiting for since before they were even engaged.

He’s not even afraid of something going wrong — a possibility they’ve joked about endlessly given their track record. No matter what happens, as long as he gets to call Carlos his husband — and be his husband in return — at the end of it, then it will be a perfect day.

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” he tells the group, smile growing, as it does every time he thinks about Carlos and their wedding. “Even before the attack, I don’t think I’d ever felt like this, and I kind of wish I could go back and tell the TK who woke up in the hospital that day that things are going to get so much better.”

He pauses, taking a moment to reflect, and he nods gratefully when he feels a hand land on his left shoulder. Not too long ago, the unexpected contact would have freaked him out, but he’s come a long way since then, and it helps that he knows this group is safe. They’re all former first responders who suffered career-ending injuries; TK’s become particularly close with Alma, an ex-firefighter who was blinded by shrapnel from an explosion going into her eyes, and Elias, a paraplegic mountain rescuer who moved to Austin shortly after his accident.

Though they all have different levels of disability, and though their experiences are often vastly different, there’s a mutual understanding in the group. TK has loved coming here these past few months; it’s been a haven when life overwhelmed him.

So he knows they won’t judge him for coming today, the day before the happiest of his life, when he should probably be anywhere else. And it’s not that Carlos or the rest of his family would judge him, but it’s different here, the same way it’s different at his AA meetings.

A quiet whine comes from near his feet and Jinxy butts his head gently against TK’s calf. TK smiles and reaches down to stroke him; Jinxy has become so much more than just a guide dog in the months since he got him, always picking up on when TK gets too far in his head. He’s definitely one of the silver linings in the cloud of the attack.

TK takes a deep breath and continues. “I guess I… I’m used to the way things are now. I mean, I still have low moments and I still sometimes get so angry at everything, but I’m at peace with it for the most part.

“It’s just… I’m getting married tomorrow, and I’m so happy, but there’s a part of me that’s just…sad. I-It’s stupid, I know, but I’d give anything to be able to look my husband in the eyes — really look at him — when we say our vows. Anything, even if it was only for five minutes.

“But I won’t, and I guess I’m just…trying to deal with that.”

Next to him, Elias reaches over and squeezes his thigh, and Jinxy sits up to rest his heavy head on his leg. He licks TK’s hand when he goes to stroke him, and he has to laugh, feeling a lot lighter now the weight of the confession is off his shoulders.

“It’s not stupid, TK,” the group leader, Daniel, says, to which he’s met with a chorus of murmured agreement. “It’s perfectly natural to have feelings like this, especially at such key moments in your life, and it’s important that we talk about them instead of letting them fester. Thank you for your share, and congratulations.”

TK nods his thanks and settles back in his seat, heaving a sigh of relief. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and smiles, knowing it’s probably from Carlos; they may be spending today mostly apart, but they couldn’t pay TK to stop talking to him.

Sure enough, when he checks the message outside the meeting, it’s a voice message from Carlos — a pleasant surprise, given TK is used to the robotic voice of his screen reader.

Hey, babe, hope the meeting went well. Mami’s got me slaving over the food for tomorrow; apparently it being our wedding means nothing.

TK snorts as Andrea’s voice filters through the speakers. He can’t tell what she’s saying, but he’d bet anything it’s some kind of reproach.

I should go, Carlos continues eventually, sounding contrite. I love you, babe. Can’t wait for tomorrow.

The message ends, and TK doesn’t need to see his reflection to know he’s got a huge, stupid grin on his face.

The future is looking bright, indeed.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #911ls #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

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safertokiss · 4 years ago

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Through a Different Lens

A/N: Well, well, well. Lookie what we have here. New content wowza. I’d say I’m surprised it’s been a while, but I simply am not. Luckily another fic swap has arrived to get my creative juices flowing once again. The gods have gifted me with another perfect opportunity to write sub spence because I was given @writing-in-april as my person yet again. Hooray! Anyways I hope you enjoy and thanks all you cool cats and kittens for the support (we almost to 1000 yeet skrrt). Also, it just happens to be my birthday today so as a gift to myself I thought about subby Spencer for a while.

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT and can’t forget that fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

ENJOY:)

~~~

It all started completely by accident.

There was no possible way that she would’ve been able to predict just how much they would affect the poor kid.

She could remember, clear as day, the first time she was forced to wear her glasses to the bureau due to her ongoing frustrations with the torture devices that were also referred to as contacts. There were only so many headaches and eye-waterings that she could take before the insecurity of wearing her frames to work shriveled below the point of caring anymore.

But none of those previous insecurities held a flame to the amount of confusion she felt when she entered the bullpen and waltzed over to Spencer’s desk to say good morning with a shy smile adorning her face. Y/n hadn’t even been able to get a complete sentence out before the young doctor had turned to her and froze, his mouth hanging open like a fish, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates, the harsh red blush she had seen before, just maybe not to this extent, engulfing his boyish features.

Before she could even attempt to ask him what she had done to warrant such a response, he was spouting out a meager, “H-hey Y/n” whilst simultaneously scurrying off in the direction of the nearest bathroom.

Completely and utterly perplexed over what had happened, she had shrugged it off and made her way back to her desk, silently mulling over the interaction periodically throughout the rest of the day.

It was a couple of the same type of interactions later that Y/n began to take notice of what was actually happening with the boy genius. The stiff and unnatural posture. The stuttering, granted that wasn’t something new, just much more frequent and severe. The audible heartbeat always accompanied by rosy cheeks and goosebumps.

Spencer Reid was fucking turned on by the glasses.

And he didn’t even try to hide it. Or maybe he did and was just really, really bad at doing so.

Either way, Y/n quickly discovered just how much fun it was getting these reactions to pour out of the kid...so of course she kept wearing the glasses even after she was able to wear contacts again. He didn’t need to know that.

It was so fucking easy too.

She would just be sitting at her desk, occupied by some particularly troubling pages of a case file that makes her have to readjust her frames out of stress, when she’d hear a high pitched squeak across the bullpen, followed by the pattering of frantic footsteps she had familiarized herself with in former few weeks.

While she felt some kind of guilt for putting him through this, it was nowhere near enough to overtake the genuine excitement and gratification that came with knowing she could have such an effect on the adorable doctor.

Of course she found him attractive...how could she not with his perfectly sculpted cheekbones and nerdy slicked back hair. Ultimately Y/n could understand his apparent infatuation with her wearing glasses as she had caught herself, on more than a couple occasions, openly ogling his own specs.

Maybe they were both weirdos...the whole situation was almost as strange as the Converse kink that she secretly harbored for years. Although her intuition was quick to suggest that, just maybe, both of her unique infatuations stemmed from the same noodle-shaped source.

Perhaps her favorite reaction of his, though, came about during the little office birthday party that the entire team had thrown for him.

He looked so adorable in the gigantic birthday cake hat they had bestowed upon him, Y/n could hardly contain her giggles at the giddy smile adorning his face. She watched on in amusement as Spencer tried desperately to get the candles on his cake to extinguish, to no avail, at least until someone felt bad watching his struggles and decided to give him a hand.

“They’re trick candles Spence, they’re gonna come back on every time.”, JJ chuckled, subtly smirking at Morgan who was also enjoying Spencer’s ongoing struggles.

A couple “happy birthdays” later and the rest of the team slowly began to disperse, leaving just Y/n and him alone in their own little space. He must’ve noticed this too because the blush that had already been present throughout the celebration beforehand seemed to deepen even further as he visibly swallowed down his nerves.

Slowly stalking towards the rouge kissed boy, she dragged a couple of her fingers across the surface of the desk, noting the way his eyes briefly flicked down to follow the movement before hesitantly returning his gaze to match her own.

She also noted the way his knuckles were basically turning white from the amount of pressure he was using to grab the sides of the chair.

“You have a good birthday, Spence?”, Y/n drawled with a teasing smile, now standing directly before the trembling young man.

Seeming to snap out of whatever sort of trance he had been in, he hastily cleared out his throat before responding with a bit of trepidation. “Hmm...yeah-yes uh yes it was v-very good, than-thank you.”

She couldn’t even attempt to conceal the smirk that had made its way to her lips listening to the genius stutter through his words. Such a nervous, nervous boy. So adorable. So fucking hot.

“Well that makes me happy. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself pretty boy.”, she paused her thoughts soaking in the little hitches in his breath surely from how close she was standing near him and the added nickname. Deciding to play a little bit dirty, she leaned over directly into his line of sight to reach for the cake set before him.

“Now how about I take this away and cut it up for all of us to eat? Hmmm?”

His eyes darted immediately to the cleavage that was so graciously presented to him as she bent over to pick up the dessert, a sharp little gasp escaping his pretty, pink lips as his pupils dilated carelessly.

Y/n inwardly smirked at his reaction and began walking towards the kitchenette, but only made it about three or four steps before being interrupted.

“Did you know that in some instances birthday candles are safe for wax play?”, he exclaimed before seemingly realizing what had just escaped his lips, his hands flying up to cover his traitorous mouth.

Bewildered, in the best of ways, by what had just been said, she slowly swiveled back around, facing him once again, before placing the cake on the desk beside her.

“What was that Spencer?”, she grinned at the petrified man who hadn’t made a single noise since his unexpected declaration. The poor thing looked like a caged in animal with nowhere to escape. Perfect.

“N-nothing! I m-mean obviously it was um s-something, but j-just uh just forget what I s-said.”, he quickly explained while frantically shaking his hands as if he was hoping he could simply wipe your memory of the last minute or two away permanently.

“No, no please go on.”, she teased. “Now I’m intrigued. What did you mean by ‘in some instances’ Spence?”

She wasn’t expecting the look of confusion, however brief it was, that peeked its way through the overwhelming embarrassment that had been showcased on his face, as if he truly couldn’t fathom that someone was actually asking him to go into more detail about a topic.

Still didn’t change the fact that he was completely mortified.

Clearing his throat, he hesitantly lifted his gaze back to Y/n’s, seemingly debating with himself over whether he could articulate the words to come out or not.

“Um...well..usually many p-people who choose to e-engage in such act-activities will use specific types of c-candles that are uh more designed especially for pl-play.”, he paused and she drank up the way his Adam's apple bobbed along his throat. “Uh… basically depending on the t-type of candle that one u-uses, the amount of pain or um d-discomfort differs. B-birthday candles tend to b-be on the more painful side so only the couples who are in-into that kind of thing would ever really utilize t-them.”, he finished abruptly, his leg bouncing rapidly in her line of vision.

She still couldn’t really believe she had actually gotten him to say anything at all, nevermind an in depth analysis on wax play. In a weird way she was proud of him. Really proud. Sometime amidst her thoughts, she’d found herself standing directly behind his sitting figure, her hands resting on either side of him against the table, the goosebumps visible on his skin from the implications of the position they were currently in.

“That’s really intriguing Spencer. I’d love to find out someday just why it is you know so much about the subject, but I don’t want to make you go into cardiac rest anytime soon.”, she remarked, giggling at the shy smile that made its way to his mouth.

She didn’t even register reaching out to lightly touch his lips until she heard his sharp intake of breath. Until he turned his head so they were mere centimeters apart. Until she watched his puppy eyes dart between her lips and your frame covered gaze. Until the space between them seemed to be lessening with every sec-

“Hey pretty boy! Where’s my cake?”

Y/n grudgingly pulled back at the interruption, watching in amusement as Spencer’s body instinctively leaned forward as if his lips hadn’t gotten the memo and were still searching for hers. “It’s coming right up you lazy ass!” she yelled back with a grin on her face.

She looked back to the boy sitting before her and was almost mesmerized by the dazed look present on his face, the blush slowly retreating as he came back to his surroundings. She could tell there were words that he wanted to say, but they just didn’t seem to be forming fast enough to actually come out. Deciding to put their little moment on hold before he passed out, she walked back over to the neglected dessert and started heading towards the break room again.

“I’ll make sure to save you the biggest piece, Spence.”,she threw over her shoulder, chuckling at the bewildered look still that was still present on his face.

~~~

The day was a big success in her opinion.

Spencer looked even more like a child than usual with the big shit eating grin that remained throughout the celebration and the bulky hat that he refused to take off. She could never understand how someone could have such an affinity for sugar as she watched him devour the huge slice of cake she had carved up for him.

But hours later, it was just her and Spencer left in the building.

And she was not about to let that go to waste.

Y/n could see him from where she stood at the entrance to the kitchenette. She could see the way he slouched over his desk with his legs curled underneath him, criss cross applesauce, as he scribbled down whatever case file he was working on. She admired his determined work ethic, that’s for sure.

But now was simply not the time to work.

Spencer immediately froze as soon as her body situated itself to be leaning against his desk, painfully aware of her gaze on his tense form.

“H-hey Y/n.”, he nervously murmured, the stutter once again making her giddy.

“Hey yourself doc. Wanna tell me why it is you’re still here working at such a late hour? Doesn’t the elusive Spencer Reid have better things to be entertaining himself with?”, she drawled, her piercing gaze making the poor kid squirm before her eyes.

“Oh um no...n-not really. I actually don’t mind working late. It’s k-kind of therapeutic in a way. But um...I’m happy t-that you’re here w-with me.”, he whispered the last part as if he was scared you wouldn’t appreciate his gratitude.

But she appreciated it more than he knew.

Noticing the little pencil holder situated amongst the file stacks on his desk, an idea popped into her mind that she just couldn’t shake, prompting her to pick it up and begin fiddling with it.

“Oh is that so pretty boy? Does my presence satisfy you?” Before he could even attempt an answer she “accidently” dropped the holder on the ground, the array of pens and pencils dispersing among the floor. “Oops my bad.”

Spencer immediately scrambled out of his seat and onto the floor to start collecting the colorful writing utensils, the perfect distraction needed for Y/n to situate herself on his desk with her legs spread open directly in front of his face.

“D-don’t worry abou-”, his sentence cut off as he looked up and was met with the tantalizing sight of her white lace panties already damp with her excitement. She swore he could die happy with the way his eyes widened and cheeks flushed. She couldn’t help but chuckle lightly.

“See something you like baby?” Unable to even form words, the young doctor slowly nodded his head, eyes still locked on the obvious wet spot between her open legs.

“C-can I..can I um…”

“Use your words baby boy. Can you what?”, she spoke clearly, grasping his chin so he’d look her in the eyes.

“C-can I taste you?” She couldn't get over the desperate way he spoke as if he’d die of thirst if he didn’t get a drink from her.

“Of course you can sweet b-” Not even letting the words leave her mouth, his hands were eagerly pulling her panties down and off her legs, his lips instantly connecting with the heated flesh at the apex of her thighs. She swore his tongue and lips were enchanted with the way he was able to effortlessly maneuver his way around, easily picking up on what she loved.

“Oh Spencer you’re such a good boy.” she couldn’t resist threading her fingers through his silky hair and tugging slightly, an action she assumed he enjoyed based on the muffled whine she heard from between her thighs.

It hadn’t even been more than a few minutes before she found herself already on the verge of letting go. No guy had ever been able to make her feel this good and just electric until now. He was quickly ruining her for anyone else in the future. She did not mind in the slightest.

“Baby I really wanna feel you inside me. Is that something you want sweetheart?”

He reluctantly pulled back after a few more kitten licks to her clit, wide eyes finding hers and whimpering out a broken “yes”. More than happy with his response she gently pulled him up by his hair and started undoing his belt, his oversized pants easily falling down without the extra support. Just another thing about him that she had come to adore. She was very pleased by the obvious bulge that protruded through his baby blue checkered boxers.

Before she pulled those down too, though, she very gently reached up and cupped his cheeks, guiding his plump lips to her own, basking in the delighted whimpers that escaped his mouth at the soft but passionate contact. She released his lips with a slight nip and proceeded with his clothing removal, coaxing him to sit down in the swirly chair he had been previously residing in, before straddling his lap.

“You ready sweet boy?”, she asked leaning forward to kiss his rouge forehead and cheeks.

“Mhmm I’m r-ready.”

Taking that as the go ahead, she cautiously positioned herself over his throbbing erection before slowly lowering herself inch by inch until he was completely enveloped by her tight, warm walls.

“Oh-ohh my.”, he whimpered at the overwhelming feeling of being connected so intimately. Gently, she started to move a bit more, hesitantly lifting up before lowering herself back down, flush against his lap, one of her soft hands anchoring herself to his shoulder while the other caressed his flushed cheeks.

“I know baby, I know. You feel so good baby boy I don’t think I’m going to be able to last much longer.”

“M-me neither.”, he stuttered as the pace she had previously set seemed to increase in speed, the excitement and ecstasy getting to the both of them and subconsciously pushing the two of them closer to their shared release.

The fire was quickly building within her body and she knew she was truly crumbling at the seams, but with the way his body was trembling and his dick was subtly twitching inside of her she knew he was right there too.

“It’s ok baby boy, it’s ok. Cum for me sweet boy. I want you to cum inside and fill up my pussy Spence.”, she muttered feeling the beginning of her end crash unexpectedly throughout her entire being, grasping onto the boy underneath her to tie herself to the earth.

Overwhelmed by the utter euphoria of Y/n cumming around him, Spencer let himself get thrown off the edge, his hands tightening on her waist hard enough she was sure little bruises would form come tomorrow, not that she minded at all.

“Oh Y/n!” She watched on, obsessed with the way that his mouth fell open in a little o-shape as his eyes squeezed shut, the tell tale signs of pleasure coursing through his veins, the warm feeling that he left deep inside of her as she gently lifted herself from his shaking legs, reaching for her panties before the warmth was able to escape down her damp thighs.

Looking back at the trembling boy after cleaning herself and him up, she couldn’t help but melt at the lovesick, puppy dog eyes he was giving her, prompting her to lean forward and leave more little kisses on the top of his damp hair.

“That was incredible Spence. Really incredible. I’ve never felt anything like that before baby.”

She melted even further at the way he shyly dropped his head to somewhat hide the wide grin that had spread like wildfire across his face. There was a comfortable silence between the two of them before his head lifted with a questioning glance.

“How’d you-I mean uh how did you know that I liked you?” There was no way she could control the giggles that left her lips at his silly question.

“You weren’t exactly subtle with the whole glasses thing Spence.”

And then the only sound heard throughout the building was her full blown laughter at the mortification that speedily adorned his cherry cheeks.

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years ago

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Between the devil and the deep blue sea (Yakuza!Josuke x Reader x Don Giorno)

If you're looking for cinnamon bun Josuke and cinnamon roll Giorno this is NOT it. The reader is a courtesan in this instance, and the Duwang gang (heh) are actually a branch of the Yakuza. (Just a darker, criminal Jojo AU)

This request took way too long, @rubyninja1 here you go love, I hope this is what you were envisioning.

All characters are aged up as this occurs many years after Giorno becomes Don.

TW: Very OOC, yandere behavior if you squint, yakuza x mafia au, suggestive content.

Word Count: 1.7k

Minors please DNI with this post and block the n/sfw tag

You stared at your reflection in the misty mirror, wiping off the steam in one swipe. You had a very important engagement to get ready for, and for the first time since you entered this business, you were nervous. Ever since Giorno became the Don of Passione, the drug trade came to a grinding halt. The rules were adapted to suit his ideals and keep Italy’s youth safe from drugs. But there remained one problem- the activities of the former execution squad… at the best of times, the income brought in was meagre, not really being enough to support all of the assassins, and with the new regime, even those jobs had all but dried up. You had to get creative to generate a livable income, and after many conversations and playing to the Don’s affections for you, you were able to persuade him to allow you and an elite group of escorts to run your business while still being under the protection of Passione.

Under normal circumstances, Giorno would not have allowed you to do something like this, but you had asked him to give you just one month to prove that you would be able to protect yourself while doing the line of work you had proposed, him hoping silently that you would grow tired of that life in favor of a more mundane activity, however, in that short amount of time, not only had you established your business, but you had become the most requested companion, which meant you could accept and deny requests at will- suddenly money was no longer your motivation. It was an intoxicating feeling… being that desired, it was altogether euphoric watching them crumble at your sweet rejections. It was fair game for any man, deciding your rules according to your latest whims, although, one man was above all of those games, being in a superior league all on his own. There was no waiting, or appraising when your presence was requested by Don Giovanna. Most times he would request for you to entertain his associates, close to him so he could keep an eye on you- one of many guardians that you had collected over the years.

Moving into your adjoining room you put on the beautiful silken embroidered outfit and hair ornaments sent to you by Giorno- tonight was a special night as the Don wasn’t just hosting any old Mafiosi, these guests were his esteemed associates from Japan. Over and above the usual treatment doled out to those who met with the don, this visit was more important than most. The head of the visiting group was a relative of Giorno’s, so there was no room for error. You wondered about his convoluted bloodline, hearing murmurs about his origins, but nothing was ever confirmed or denied other than the fact that his mother is Japanese, and nobody dared to push further for answers, not that it mattered in any case, by this time, Giorno had rearranged the entire structure of Passione, and for all intents and purposes it worked, sustainably generating copious amounts of money with minimal bloodshed.

Right, mascara and I’ll be done you mused as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. No sooner had you finished primping your lashes did you hear a knock on your door.

“It’s open…” you called out from the seat in front of your mirror.

“(y/n), they’re ready with the car downstairs, whenever you’re ready to go…”

“Thank you Ris…” the words left your carefully painted lips, barely acknowledged by your capo when he turned to leave. Well, referring to him as Capo was now redundant seeing that you were an entity in your own right, but old habits die hard, and you still respected him in the same way. He always worried before you set out on these types of missions, remembering a time when you used to be sent out on missions by him. Nonetheless, those days were over now, and you had a new role to fulfil.

There was nobody downstairs when you left, so you exited quietly and steeled your mind on the drive to the private cigar lounge.

“Fugo, I’ll be in my study, please alert me when Higashikata and his associates are here. Also confirm with Risotto if (y/n) is on board for this evening,”

“Of course Giogio, excuse me, I’ll also follow up with Mista on the status of the Capos he’s in charge of- I’ll have feedback for you in an hour,” with a small nod of acknowledgement Fugo took his leave and Giorno went back to examining the documents sent to him beforehand about the strange occurrences in Morioh, Washington, and now Naples. This was the start of something ominous, having a nagging feeling that this wasn’t the last time he would have to meet Josuke. It’s highly unusual for organisations like Passione and the Gokudo to interact in this manner, but this situation was exceptional, and when Jotaro had made contact with Giorno explaining the situation, he couldn’t turn a blind eye, and as such, Josuke was sent in his stead to meet with the young Don.

“Giogio, we should leave now if we want to get there before Higashikata’s group, Mista will meet us there,” with that, the Don and his consigliere had left to receive their guests.

Scents of old leather, expensive tobacco, and even more expensive cologne filled the air when you sauntered in. A handsome man with a pompadour, donning a designer suit, shirt opened a few buttons too low displaying the elaborate patterns adorning his chest offered you a wicked grin from across the room. Just next to him, another ruggedly good looking man with scars across his face nursed a drink while emphatically making conversation with a white haired young man who had a beautiful raven-haired woman draped over him.

“Ah, (y/n), there you are, come on, take this to Don Giovanna and Mr Higashikata,” Maria the head hostess, pushed a bottle of cognac into your hands, the Mafiosi already having gone through a couple of rounds before your arrival.

You approached the rowdy table, offering apologies for the delay, nestling yourself between Giorno and Josuke with a flirtatious giggle.

“Well dollface, it seems good things come to those who wait, so I’ll overlook it… this time,” You were surprised with the fluency at which Josuke spoke Italian- perfect Neapolitan dialect.

“Your Italian is impeccable Higashikata-sama,” you commented, remembering the honorifics you read about. Josuke looked impressed, cocking an eyebrow, taking a sip of the expensive liquor that remained in his glass, readying himself for you to pour him another drink. Watching the exchange, Giorno downed the rest of his drink as well, and took care of the formal introductions, not that it mattered in any case. You were being pulled in all to quickly by the magnetism exuded by the young man, being lulled by the dulcet tones of his voice. I guess this runs in the family you thought to yourself, recalling your first encounter with the don. Giorno continued his conversations with the rest of Josuke’s associates, discussing the occurrences that had brought them all the way to Naples, but kept one eye on you at all times. He wasn’t sure if it was Josuke’s brazen attitude, or your fawning, but the entire situation had annoyed him, which didn’t make sense even to him seeing that you were acting on his instruction… although by this point, you weren’t really acting.

“So Higash…”

“Please, call me Josuke,”

“Okay, Josuke, those are some interesting tattoos you have…” you say, delicately tracing the patterns on his chest with a manicured finger.

“Wanna see the rest of it?” not really waiting for an answer, Josuke unbuttons the rest of his shirt to show you the elaborate design on his back, a large stunning dragon sprawled menacingly across the taut skin, stopping just shy of star-shaped marking on his shoulder.

“Hey, that looks like the same mark on the don’s shoulder…” the young man pulled his shirt and coat back on and eyed Giorno knowingly, to which the don wordlessly replied with a smirk as he raised his glass. Giorno wasn’t always that condescending, but he had the urge to make it known that hewas the one who had been acquainted with you first. Not that any of that had bothered Josuke, he wasn’t one to fall for minor acts of derision when he had set his sights on something he wanted, and right now, that was you. Missing that entire interaction as you refreshed everyone else’s drinks, you returned to the table, however Josuke wanted to take your conversation to another location, somewhere quieter.

You lead him to one of the private meeting rooms, slowly sliding the door shut. Turning around to face him, you noticed the look on Josuke’s face changed, eyes darker, expression demanding your attention, which you were unable to avert regardless of your efforts. This feeling was exhilarating to you, for so long you had mostly been in charge of your encounters, only ever yielding control to Giorno when you were with him.

“Y’know, your don was doing his best to make it known that he’d been here first… I don’t much care for the conquest or doing things first, all that matters is doing it right…” inching closer towards you, a pair of strong arms placed you on the table, hungry lips captured your own, your hands attempting to go into his hair when you were gently reprimanded. As much as this was a job for you, evidence of your excitement pooled in your lingerie and left your lips in muted moans as deft hands and lips skillfully worshipped your body, bringing you to the precipice of ecstasy so many times before allowing you to fall in.

“Good girl… look at you, barely able to think…” Josuke spoke into your shoulder, resting his head there while he waited for you ride out your climax.

Outside your little slice of heaven, your absence was obvious, Giorno having concluded his business, had started to take his leave, not before catching a glimpse of your slightly disheveled form exiting the room. You didn’t see him watching you with a scowl, already having set in motion a plan for your future in both his life and the organization… for now the moment though it seemed ignorance truly was bliss.

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death, I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia: I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

#Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Leia Organa #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Phoenix Babbles #Uncle Ben and Little Luke #Auntie Soka and Little Leia #I need to excise the bits that are actually funny on their own

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nerdythebard · 3 years ago

Text

#35: Vi, the Piltover Enforcer [League of Legends]

I think this one was an anonymous request. If I'm mistaken, and the person that requested to play Vi from League of Legends would like to receive the credit, please contact me so I can edit this. I'm really sorry for losing your message.

Next Time: ...I forgot. Huh... such a ghostly feeling.

Now, what do we need for this dangerous boxer?

Punch & Parley: Vi wears oversized gauntlets that give her the ability to dish out deluxe Punchables™ and do exactly like Mama said. She does, however, use her wits as well as her wallops to get what she wants.

Critical Crusher: Vi has a great crushing potential, shredding enemies' armours, applying bonus damage and obtaining extra protections when engaging.

Like a Wrecking Ball: Vi's high mobility and charging attacks make her a sort of juggernaut on the battlefield. Her Ultimate ability makes her also immune to Crowd Control.

---

Vi is a human, no doubts about that, so we're gonna make her one here as well. As a Human (Variant), we get a +1 to two abilities of our choice (Strength and Charisma), we can speak Common and one language of our choice, we are proficient in one skill of our choice (Intimidation), and we get to pick a feat. The Charger feat gives us a running start option: if we use the Dash action (and move at least 10 feet in a straight line), we can use our bonus action to either make a melee weapon attack, which gets a +5 damage bonus on a hit, or to shove a creature up to 10 feet away.

At first I had considered making Vi a Criminal or Charlatan, to better reflect her past, but then I decided to do post-Factorywood Fiends Vi. So we're gonna choose the City Watch background. We gain proficiency in Athletics and Insight skills, two languages of our choice (ask your DM if you could get Thieves' Cant to better reflect your criminal past), and the Watcher's Eye feature. This gives us a feel for the law enforcement and criminal activity in a place we visit. We know where to find the local law outpost or criminal den or shady community (maybe a black market?). We're probably gonna be more welcome in the former than latter, but since we used to be a charlatan we may try to persuade our way in.

ABILITY SCORES

Strength will be our number one. We need to punch stuff and punch it well, Chewie. Constitution shall be next, we were able to withstand the burning of our own hands long enough to save a bunch of people from the mines. Follow that up with Dexterity for, as I mentioned before, mobility options.

Charisma will be next, Vi was charming enough to persuade a rival gang to (initially) help them with a heist. Intelligence is on the lower end, but she was smart enough to modify the pulverizer gauntlets by herself. Finally, we're dumping Wisdom because... yeah, inclusion of your worst rivals in a big heist was not very wise.

CLASS

Level 1 - Fighter: Starting off with the obvious class. Fighters get the d10 as their Hit Dice, [10 + our Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiency in light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. We're going to get our actual armour later (for now, pick a studded leather), and we're getting no weapons (more on that later). Our saving throws are Strength and Constitution, and we get to pick two class skills from the list (Perception and Survival).

Fighters begin with choosing their Fighting Style. For Vi, who deals with problems by serving knuckle sandwiches, we're picking the Unarmed Fighting style. Our punches now deal [1d6 + our Strength modifier] bludgeoning damage (instead of normal 1 + Strength mod.). If we aren't wearing a shield or holding a weapon, the d6 becomes a d8. Additionally, if we have a creature grappled, we can deal 1d4 bludgeoning damage at the start of each turn.

We also get Second Wind. It lets us heal [1d10 + our Fighter level] Hit Points as a bonus action once per short or long rest.

Level 2 - Fighter: Thanks to Action Surge, we can now take another Action during our turn once per short or long rest.

Level 3 - Fighter: We get to pick out first subclass, our Martial Archetype. Since Vi is a champion of Piltover, we're picking the Champion archetype to get some more Fighter in our Fighter. With Improved Critical, we now score critical damage with our weapon attacks when we roll a 19 or 20.

Level 4 - Fighter: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement. We're actually going to rase our Intelligence by two points, to get the necessary multiclass requirement.

Level 5 - Fighter: We get Extra Attack. During one Attack action, we can now make two strikes instead of just one.

Level 6 - Fighter: Another ASI time! We're getting once more point into Intelligence and one into Dexterity.

Level 7 - Artificer: We're finally getting those sweet metal maulers! Multiclassing into Artificer gives us proficiencies with all armour (which we already have) as well as thieves' tools and tinker's tools. We start with Magical Tinkering, which lets us imbue minor magical properties onto tiny objects. We can make the object shed light, play a recorded message, emit a sound or a smell, or display an small image.

Artificers also get Spellcasting. Intelligence is our casting modifier, and we know how to cast cantrips and rituals. Every day we can prepare [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down] spells. We start with two cantrips:

Shocking Grasp causes lightning to spark from our hand and onto the creature we touch. On a successful hit (we get an advantage if the enemy wears a metal armour), we deal 1d8 lightning damage (increases as we level up) and the target cannot make reactions until the start of its next turn.

Mending instantly repairs a break, a tear, or any damage to an object no larger than 1 foot in diameter. It can also repair a magic item, although it does not restore the magical properties.

We also get two 1st-level spell slots. Since we can only get one spell, let's use those for the Longstrider spell. For 1 hour, we (or any creature we touch) get extra 10 feet of movement speed.

Level 8 - Artificer: We unlock the Artificer's speciality: Infuse Item. Similar to the Warlock's Invocations, these are special properties we can assign to objects and weapons to make them better. We start by knowing four Infusions and we can make up to two Infused Items.

Enhanced Defence can be applied onto a shield or a suit of armour. It grants the wearer a +1 to their AC.

Enhanced Weapon can be applied onto any simple or martial weapon. It grants the weapon a +1 to both the attack and damage roll.

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding creates one of the most useful items in the game, taking care of messy inventory or providing a place to hide contraband.

Replicate Magic Item: Goggles of Night completes Vi's look and solves one of the more annoying problems when playing a Human: the lack of Darkvision.

We also get another 1st-level spell: Jump lasts for 1 minute and triples our jumping distance.

Level 9 - Artificer: We get a neat little feat called Right Tool for the Job. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools on hand, we can spend 1 hour to craft any set of artisan's tools we need.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Artificer Specialization. We can finally get our gauntlets with the Armourer specialization. We get proficiency with smith's tools, and we also get some Artificer Spells to enhance our repertoire. These spells are always prepared for us. At this level, we get:

Magic Missile, which creates three darts of magic energy that instantly successfully hit the target for [1d4 + 1] force damage each.

Thunderwave causes a wave of thunderous force shot out in a 15-foot cube. Each creature within range must make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d8 thunder damage (half damage on a successful save) and be pushed up to 10 feet away.

Finally, we get our Arcane Armour. We can transform the existing suit of armour into a magically-enhanced one, giving it the following properties:

If the armour requires a certain Strength score to wear it, we don't need to have it.

We can use the armour as the spellcasting focus for our Artificer spells.

The armour cannot be taken off of us against our will. It also replaces any missing limbs with construct limbs.

We can don the armour on or off as an action, rather than time listed.

We also get to pick our Armour Model, which customizes our armour in terms of combat abilities. The Guardian model gives us what we want, namely the Thunder Gauntlets. They count as a melee weapons if we're not holding any weapon, and they deal 1d8 thunder damage on a successful hit. Creatures hit by the attack have disadvantage on attack rolls against targets other than us until the start of our next turn. This armour model also gives us Defensive Field. As a bonus action, we can get Temporary Hit Points equal to our Artificer level.

Level 10 - Artificer: Halfway through the build, and we get another ASI. Instead of increasing our abilities, however, we're gonna pick the Tough feat. Our Hit Points maximum increases by [our current class level x2] and with every level-up thereafter we get +2 Hit Points.

We also get the final spell of the build: Feather Fall is a reaction that can be used when... well, falling. The spell targets up to five falling creatures (including us) and decreases their rate of falling for 1 minute. If the creatures land before the spell ends, they take no fall damage.

Level 11 - Fighter: Back for some more combat, and we come back for another subclass update. Remarkable Athlete gives us the ability to add half of our proficiency bonus to any Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution skill check for skills we're not proficient in.

Level 12 - Fighter: Time for another ASI. This time, let's get ourselves one point in Charisma and one into Wisdom, to start the negative modifier removal.

Level 13 - Fighter: We get the Indomitable feat. Once per long rest, we can re-roll a failed saving throw. We have to use the new result, though, even if it's worse than the previous one.

Level 14 - Fighter: We get one more subclass upgrade. This time, we can pick one additional Fighting Style. Let's get the Superior Technique style from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. This lets us access to the Battle Master subclass's techniques by giving us a d6 Superiority Die that is used to fuel one manoeuvre of our choice. Let's get the Lunging Attack; whenever we make a melee weapon attack, we can spend the Superiority Die to extend our weapon reach by 5 feet. If we successfully hit, we add the SD result to our damage roll.

Level 15 - Fighter: We get an upgrade for our Extra Attack. We can now make three strikes during a single Attack action.

Level 16 - Fighter: Time for another ASI. We're gonna put one point into Wisdom, to finally get rid of the negative modifier, and we'll put the remaining point into Strength.

Level 17 - Fighter: We can now use our Indomitable twice per long rest.

Level 18 - Fighter: One more ASI for the road. For this let's one point into Strength and one into Dexterity.

Level 19 - Fighter: We get the final subclass upgrade: Superior Critical. We now score a critical hit whenever we roll natural 18-20.

Level 20 - Fighter: Our capstone is Fighter 16, which ends with an ASI. To make all of our abilities an even number, let's put one point into Dexterity and one into Intelligence.

---

And that's Vi, the loud and proud lawmaker of Piltover. Let's see what we got:

Seems like we're a pretty good melee combatant, with stable damage output, and the ability to score criticals on three different rolls. We have some supporting spells, a few good magic items on hand, and a rather balanced ability scores.

With a studded leather armour we have the AC of 15, a +4 bonus to our Initiative, and the average Hit Points of 201.

We are rather low on our Wisdom, and therefore might fall prey to some saving throws. Also, despite having points in a casting class, our spells are not impressive and mostly focus on helping our mobility. And we don't have a 20 in a single ability, which is always sad.

---

Okay, that is Vi. Hopefully, you guys enjoyed yourselves. I'll see you for the next one, my loves!

- Nerdy out!

#vi #lol #league of legends #vi the piltover enforcer #dnd #dungeons and dragons #character building #d&d 5e #dnd 5e #fighter #champion #artificer #armorer #armourer #vi league of legends #arcane

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stuckybarton · 4 years ago

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Red Velvet Cake

Summary: Behind the sweet smile and angelic personality was a spitfire when someone dared destroy her little bakery in the heart of New York. Steve finds that out the hard way when his girlfriend's bakery becomes collateral damage in a small fight in New York. Warning: Profanities. Mild Violence. (Two Loud Slaps to be specific). Grammar Errors. Not Beta’d. Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Steve Rogers Words: 1,775 A/N: I don’t know, I just thought of this idea and thought why not. Masterlist

You had never thought your life would become this wild, but you've gone with the flow. Who would have ever thought that finally starting this bakery in the heart of New York. It was tough, with just a handful of employees, would bring you into so much chaos in your once peaceful life.

Meeting the Avengers had been a wild ride with a smooth beginning for you. First meeting Sam, a man that was looking for a quick snack post-work out. A man with a soft smile and quick quips that brought a smile on everyone's faces every single time he would come to visit. Then eventually, he came not alone, but with two of his best friend and your life changed ever since.

Bucky Barnes was the mellow of the trio, preferring to stay in the background while Sam would try his hardest to flirt with you and push his other friend with you. But he always had this charm on him that had a few of your female employees swooning just by the simply nickname of Doll he would throw at them.

But Sam's other friend had all his attention on you just as much as you had your entire attention on him. The dame that always spoiled him with sweets and made him enjoy morning runs more now that your bakery become their daily stop after.

It started out with the flirtation, at least that was what Steve believed it to be. Having been used to Sam's daily flirtation, you got so immune to it that it had become easier to hide the warmth in your cheeks or the heart eyes that Sam and Bucky were once quick to point out when Steve wasn't looking. Eventually it ended with him finally asking you out for lunch and the rest, as they say was history between the two of you.

Eventually, it had brought you into the circle of what was his team. The Avengers. Starting with one Tony Stark that had visited your bakery one fair morning and brought everything in your bakery long before the trio would come for their visit. It was an eventful day for you, that much you could admit. Everyone had the rest of the day to themselves and gave you time to spend with Steve, as annoyed as he was to not be able to have his usual treats. You made him your special apple pie as compensation, much to his enjoyment.

Then it was the rest of the team, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. Visiting after getting a taste of your pastries that Tony Stark had generously provided for the team. Now like the trio, you now have another trio you can call as your regulars. Then there was Clint Barton, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner that eventually came to visit after everyone had egged them on and they would come for a few pastries and coffee, but not as much as the rest of the bunch. You were alright with that, being able to meet Steve's team and knowing each and every single one of them were good people in their own little way was enough for you.

Weeks turned into months, and months now turned to almost two years. Your life at the bakery was filled with ups and downs just as much as your relationship with one Steve Rogers. The constant fear you had when he was on a mission, uncertain whether he would come back alive or not. Then there was the more often than not times that you were too consumed with the bustling number of customers than you only had time to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before helping out on the cashier. It had once been a fight between the two of you because of your line of work, but you would constantly compromise. He was out saving the world while you were living the dream you had always wanted for yourself with baking. Instead of his apartment in Brooklyn, Steve was now living with you, in the humble little apartment you had above the bakery. Your little piece of heaven.

This life you had created with Steve was something you had never thought you'd have for yourself but you were enjoying it immensely. You would want nothing more in your life. Until things had gone horribly bad and you want nothing more than to kill Steven Grant Rogers and the rest of the Avengers.

Y/N was going to kill him. That much Steve had known while they continued on with the debriefing. A quarter of New York City was wiped clean by the attack of the alien overlord attempting their luck on the planet. As much as Tony had assured that they could stay in the tower while repairs were being made, He was still uncertain with what you would be feeling because of it.

Nothing hurts him more than seeing you sad or disappointed.

"What's the ETA on the repair?" he inquired as soon as the meeting was done.

"More or less two weeks. We've had our team assure Y/N that her employees would be paid full for the two weeks while we are doing repairs." Tony explained. "Last time I heard she barely spoke a word while she helped her employees with cleaning up."

Steve could only sigh, annoyance peaking through his mind. It was worst than he thought.

"Mister Stark, Ms. Y/L/N is on her way to the meeting room." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Before the A.I could finish with the announcement, the sudden slam of the door had everyone's head turn, every single one ready for another fight. But the sight of the innocent Y/N looking displeased brought everyone to a slight calm. There was still a problem, but this was better than another alien attack.

"Babe-"

The resounding slap had everyone else wincing. So much for the Super Serum. Everyone could see the red imprint on Steve's face and your shaky hand responsible for the said mark on the Captain's face.

"Your fucking shield destroyed the ramekins." you snapped, Steve could practically see you shaking from where you stood in front of him.

You were nothing, compared to him, a Super Soldier. But just the sight of you, fuming to the nose made everyone believe that you can easily take him on. This was a genuine surprise for Steve. He had seen so much side of his girlfriend of nearly two years. Through many stages of emotional turmoil, happiness, sadness, annoyance, dysphoria, and that godforsaken puppy dog eyes that he could never say no to. But this, the sight of you angry, genuinely furious was the last thing he would have ever thought to see from you.

"Everyone has a long day, Y/N." Tony approached and the glare than now focused on her made it very well known that his presence and his response was the biggest mistake he has ever made in the moment. "Why don--"

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence as he gets to experience the same slap handed to him by you. Without the Super Soldier Serum, the sound of the slap resounded even louder than the former. Everyone was left in a mix of shock and the need to hold in their laughter at the shock look than now lingered on Tony's face as he rubbed his red cheek.

"As for you," you snapped pointing your finger right into Tony. "You're going to pay for both the fuckin bakery and my apartment upstairs. Of all the places Stark, you just had to throw the alien on my newly renovated bathroom."

Tony could only nod.

"Your people also need to talk to my employees, some of them are injured because a big fucking green dickhead thought it would be nice to throw alien matters into the basement like basketballs through the hoops." you snapped side-glancing towards the guilty Bruce Banner that refused to make any eye contact with you. "You're covered for their hospital bills, therapy, and two weeks of their supposed shift."

Tony gaped nodding.

"Jesus, why the fuck does it always have to be New York, better yet, why the hell does it have to be in the US? There are so many fucking countries in this world." You ranted turning your attention back to Steve that now broke into a small smile at your outburst. "You're not off the hook. We're staying here, but you're sleeping on the coach until further notice."

What smile he had now comes falling from his face. Blinking, this was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than his earlier encounter with the aliens only hours ago. But all he could do was nod, not knowing if any protest from him would result in a worst punishment.

"Sam," you turned to the man that now looked scared to be your focus. "Can you show me to the kitchen? I'll try making everyone someone to eat. God knows you're all starving." you request, all signs of anger now slowly dissolving from your features.

Steve didn't know what scared him more at this point, your anger or how quick you were able to recover from said anger. As Sam escorted you out of the meeting room, the rest of the team also made their way out to help you in whatever you may need in the kitchen. It now left Steve and Tony alone, practically still feeling the aftermath of your slap.

"Having second thought about proposing, Lover Boy?" Tony finally broke the awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, the first chuckle all day finally escaped his lips.

No, he was far from having second thoughts. The engagement ring hidden in his locker room made it evident to him what he was about to do on their 2nd anniversary. It would take some convincing on your part after what happened. But you loved him enough to forgive him for what happened, since technically it wasn't really his fault why the bakery was ruined.

"The proposal is still a go, Tony." he responds finally leaving the meeting room to making his way to the kitchen, already hard at work with cooking what he assumed was spaghetti and meatballs and his favourite red velvet cake.

"Steve's not having any cake right?" Nat asked as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You know what, Romanoff--"

"Not even a fucking crumb." Your response even with you facing away from him had everyone roaring in laughter and Steve rolling his eyes even with the smile on his lips growing bigger at the situations.

The things he has to endure for love.

#steve rogers one-shot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x unnamed female character

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hops-hunny · 3 years ago

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None, just more fuel to the fire. Fluff!!

A/N: Honestly this was fun to write, stay on the look out for chapter 2.5 -winks-

“Neville?!”

(Y/n) walked around the boy, taking in his appearance. She almost couldn't believe it was him. The lanky, tall, awkward boy she spent her days pining over had truly blossomed and from the looks of it, turned into a flower truly worth attention. Part of her almost didn't believe it was him but the cadence of his voice combined with the soft look in his eyes was more than enough confirmation. She'd recognize them anywhere.

The boy nodded, a small smile gracing his face as he held his arms open, inviting him into the warmth of his embrace. She accepted it gladly, sighing as she relaxed into them, squeaking a bit as she felt her feet leave the ground. Relaxing a bit, the girl closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him tighter. 'Just like I remember..'

"Pardon?" He asked, causing her to tense as he sat her down. Had she said that out loud? If she had she certainly hadn't intended on doing so.

"N-nothing!" She started as she made her way back behind the counter, using her distance to admire his appearance. Twyla nudged her, still eyeing up the dangerous looking men.

"Geez (Y/n), and here I was thinking you were a complete prude. Who would've thought that you knew such hot guys!" She said, biting her lip as she eyed up the red head. The shorter girl crushed her foot, glaring up at her employee. She yelped but quieted up, staring down at her boss

"To be fair, I haven't seen any of them in 3 years. And plus, none of them looked like this during our years at Hogwarts." Her eyes drifted to the rings on Neville's thick tattooed hands. "I apologize for it taking me so long to recognize you, Nev. I hope I didn't make things too awkward."

"You're quite alright, petal. I'm not the same man I was when you went to school with me." He sighed, looking out the window into the distance as he adjusted his tie. "I've changed quite a bit."

(Y/n) could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't just referring to his new (but most certainly not unwelcomed) appearance, but he had been through some things as well. As much as she wanted to ask him about the things he had seen and the things he had done, she knew now wasn't the time. Neville had always been private about how he felt, that was another thing that clearly hadn't faded. She reached across the counter, placing her hand on top of his as she offered him a smile.

"So, how's life been treating ya? From the looks of it, I'd assume good?" She asked, watching as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He went to speak but Twyla cut him off.

"Yeah, you look like you've got money! How'd you get so rich?" She leaned forward, eyes squint as she eyed them all. "What're you like loan sharks or something?"

"Something of the sorts." The redhead responded, nodding as he spoke. However (Y/n) was in shambles, she gaped at her friend, giving her a pissed look.

"Twyla you can't just go around asking people if they're rich!" She hissed out, going to tell her off but stopped as she felt a hand on top of hers. Neville chuckled some, patting her hand a few times.

"It's fine, 's only natural to be curious. And to answer your question…" he trailed off as if he was looking for an answer. "We work a less...desirable form of work. Lots of things people normally wouldn't wanna do."

"Yeah lots of paperwork. You wouldn't wanna hear about it, trust me." The freckled brunette finally spoke up. He held his hand out for the (h/c) haired girl to shake which she shook. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Oh! Your Nev's best friend, yeah? I remember during one of our herbology classes we had to leave because you blew something up." She began to giggle at the memory, trying to stifle some brasher laughter. "I don't know how you manage to do that with a plant. I'm (Y/n)." Seamus stepped back, clearing his throat as his face tinted a dark rouge.

"Oh trust me, we know. The bos- Neville would never shut up about you. Sometimes he still doesn't, going on about how he wonders what you're up to. Maybe running into you like this will shut him up a bit." The ginger spoke up, offering her a nod of acknowledgement. "Ron Weasley."

"Well it's clear who the lover boy here is swooning for but what about you two? Are you single?" Twyla asked, stepping from around the corner. The three of them began to converse, leaving the two former acquaintances to be amongst themselves.

"I'm sorry about her. She's got no filter on her mouth." She said, laughing to clear the stiffness to clear the air. He joined her, his familiar dopey smile on his face.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, really." He sighed, looking around the bakery. "You got a job in a bakery like you always wanted! I'm happy for you, truly." She could feel the sincerity in each of his words. During her time at Hogwarts, Neville had been kind enough to be the one to sample her baking all the time while encouraging her to follow her dreams. Having him in her bakery was enough to make her heart burst.

The girl felt her face heat up as she shrugged, smiling at him sheepishly. "Actually, I don't just work here, I uh," she looked back at him as he had his focus on her, engaged as every, "I own it."

His eyes widened as he gasped, a mix of happiness and shock on his face. "Really? That's even better!" Neville's eyes wandered along the different treats and such in the display table, looking at them in awe at the variety of things. Each item was different than the other and yet they all worked together. "I see you're still as creative with your flavors. You are a true artist, (Y/n)."

"I-I wouldn't go that far. I'm just doing what I love and I couldn't be happier." She squeezed the man's hand, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks and ears. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. Whenever my parents would send me those awful howlers, you'd be right there to lift me back up."

He felt his eyes gloss over but blinked back his tears, clearing his throat as he unwillingly ripped his gaze from hers. "Wait- are those the chocolates? The ones with the brownie pieces in them?! I've been thinking about these for ages!" He exclaimed. If it weren't for the fact she was still nervous, she would've found humor in the giant, tattoo covered man freaking out about her coco brownie chocolates.

"I remember you used to give them to me every valentine's day. We'd take them up to the astronomy tower and share them together." He sighed dreamily at the memory. "You were such a good friend for that!"

Right. Friends, that's what they were if you could even call them that. They rarely hung out with each other outside of school except for Valentine's day. She had originally gifted him the chocolates as a way to show how she felt about him but for some reason or another, he didn't realize the meaning behind them. She didn't correct him either. The way she saw it was any time she got with Neville was good time to her and that's all that mattered.

"Yeah...did you want me to pack some up for you?" She asked, reaching back for an empty box before leaning down, filling the box with the rest of the chocolates. "Here. My treat."

“Are you sure? I couldn’t possibly just take these from you! You’ve got a business to run here.” He responded, pushing the box back towards her. However, she pushed them right back, shaking her head.

“I’m positive! Think of it as an IOU for all those late night cram sessions during 7th year.” she wasn’t really giving them to him for that reason. Saying that though was just easier than saying ‘Hey take these, I’ve been in love with you for 5 years.’ and to be fair, she wasn’t in the mood for rejection. (Y/n) found herself being disappointed that even after all these years, she was conveying the way she felt for him through sweets. Anytime she went to say how she felt it was quickly just replaced with some excuse along the lines of ‘needing him to sample something’ when in reality, she knew her baking was good. But, there was just something so fulfilling from the way he’s eyes would light up whenever she’d give it to him, leaving the heart felt note in her pocket.

“Thank you.” he smiled, taking them in his hands, acutely aware of the way her fingers were on his. He felt his face flush as he looked up at her, finding her eyes were already on his. “Listen (Y/n), I was wondering if you’d like to-” his words were cut short by the sound of a phone ringing. Shortly after Ron came up, whispering something in his ear which caused his soft expression to turn into stone. He gave him a nod, taking the box and ending the contact. “I’ve gotta get going. Duty calls! I’ll see you again soon, yeah?” he muttered something under his breath smiling at her before turning around and leaving the bakery.

“Soo, what’s going on between you and the tall one?” Twyla questioned, sneaking another cookie from the display counter (which didn’t go unnoticed). (Y/n grabbed it from her hands, putting it back in the glass case as she rolled her eyes.

“First of all, you work at this bakery, not eat here. And second, nothing!” the blue haired girl gave her a look that screamed ‘bullshit’ which she simply chose to ignore. “He’s an old friend of mine and…”

“Andd?” she urged, using her hands to motion for her to continue. (Y/n) huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as she looked to the side.

“And my old crush. But I promise the only feelings we ever had in common were platonic ones!” she leaned over the counter, watching as his figure disappeared into the distance. A wave of regret fell over her wishing she had done something, anything to be able to see him again. She knew the reason he probably didn’t ask for her number was due to the fact that during her time at Hogwarts, she didn’t use a smart phone. It was something she had gotten into as of recent. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have asked for his.

“That looked like a lot more than platonic to me.” the green eyed girl sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as she spun around. “Love is in the air with you two! I can feel it, you know I’ve got a 6th sense for these sorta- woah! Look at the tip he fucking put in the jar!” she exclaimed, reaching her hand into the jar.

(Y/n) gasped, eyes widening as she looked at the three hundred dollar bills in the girls hand. ‘I kinda wish I had just let him pay..’ she thought to herself. She grabbed the bills, holding them up in the light to check the authenticity. She knew Neville would never give her fake money but it was almost hard to believe that he had given it to her without hesitancy. When had he even done that?

“I told you they have money! I mean, did you see the ring he had on? The big skull one with the sapphire eyes?” she asked, watching as her boss shook her head. “There’s only 3 of those in the world! It’s a hefty price for one of them. They must be really good at what they do!”

“Since when do you know about fashion?” (Y/n) asked, causing Twyla to let out a dramatic gasp.

“I’ll have you know I went to one of the most elite fashion schools in the wizarding world thank you very much!” (Y/n) eyed her suspiciously causing her to let out a sigh. “Okay I give up, I just shagged a guy who did. However I did steal his books!”

“Whatever.” she giggled out, walking over to hand a menu to a regular that walked in. She knew he didn’t need it but it was still common courtesy. “I just wonder what he was going to say before he left…”

-----------------------------------

As the sun began to set, (Y/n) flipped the sign to closed, closing the blinds. Although Wednesdays were their slow days, that didn’t mean they still didn’t get customers. There was also an unexpected lunch rush due to a conference being held in the hotel a few blocks over. Walking over to a cushion, she sat down relaxing into the softness of the chair. Her eyes shot open at the sound of the backroom door slamming open.

“You wanted excitement didn’t you?” her worker asked, causing her to nod cautiously. “Well get ready. We’ve got plans this weekend! Hope you’re ready for a much needed shopping trip.”

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TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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holylulusworld · 4 years ago

Text

One loose end

Summary: Dean ends things when he gets to know the truth about you. He didn’t realize he lost more than the omega he loves.

Pairing: Mobster! (Alpha)Dean x Ex-cop!(Omega)Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Jack Kline, Charlie Bradbury

Warnings: angst, language, abandonment, Dean being a douche, mafia business, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, suffering omega, loneliness, unplanned pregnancy, threats, nesting

Dean leans back in his chair, legs spread he lets his eyes travel down your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Forgotten are your strength or past when you face your alpha, the man holding your heart and body in a tight grip.

“Do you know why I summoned you here,” he’s using his alpha voice and you wonder why your fiancé looks angrily up at you. His green eyes darker than usual he licks his lips. “Answer me, omega.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” he growls, even grits his teeth as you did not address him with his presentation, and you wonder what rubbed Dean wrong. Usually, he’s all soft around you. Most of the time he only lets the alpha out to protect you or scare other alphas off. “Benny said I shall come to your office, so here I am alpha,” you add his presentation to calm the angry mobster. He’s not in a good mood so you try to walk on eggshells and make him feel better.

“You see,” he gets up, scraping the chair over the floor, making you flinch when he suddenly stands in front of you to roughly grab your chin with his hand. Dean forces you to me his eyes and you know – something is wrong with your alpha. “I heard not so nice things about you…”

“Boss,” Benny tries to intervene but Amara holds him back, watching the alpha, her boss with angry eyes.

“Not so nice things,” you huff, patting the hand which tightens the grip on your chin. “Whatever you heard, just tell me about it. I know we came a long way, okay. Not everyone liked that I’m an ex-cop. In your kind of business, I’m the enemy. But that’s in the past…”

“Is it?” Dean furrows his brows, still not letting go of your chin. “I heard differently last week. You know, I didn’t want to believe the rumors or the pictures. I even refused to watch the footage someone sent to me but the fact that you met up with Ellen Harvelle not three hours ago proved me wrong…”

“Ellen?” you blink a few times. “Yes, I met up with her, Dean. I told you so this morning. As usual, you didn’t listen but Sam was there too. Ask your brother,” you slowly get angry. People might think you are an obedient omega, always following Dean’s order but truth to be told, you’re a stubborn bitch when someone crosses a line.

“You met up with a goddamn cop,” Dean grasps for your phone, slipping it into his pocket. “I should’ve known better. Ex-cop, investigating my family and our business is in the past my ass,” your hands start to twitch when Dean pants into your face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean. Ellen retired around fifteen years ago. Right after her husband got killed. It was his partner; a corrupt cop and she just couldn’t trust anyone at her department any longer. My father was a good friend of Bill and Ellen. She’s my godmother for fuck’s sake.”

“A good cover, I must admit,” Dean’s nostrils flare and you know, he’s not making a bad joke. Dean Winchester, the head of the Winchester empire is threatening you, his omega. “Did they pay you well for being undercover for that long, for spreading your legs for me?” Your hand hits Dean’s face before your brain can stop you.

“I told you about my job, Dean. It was me coming to you, telling you about my assignment. I quit my job, gave up my friends who were all cops. The only person left in my left is Ellen, I told you so before we became a thing. You knew about her past too. She’s the only family I got left,” tears well up to your eyes but you blink them away.

The vulnerable omega whines in despair but the independent woman shields her from any harsh word leaving Dean’s lips. “If not for your connection to that woman, you would be dead by now.” You gasp, stepping backward. For a moment you just look at Dean, at the alpha you believed would claim you after your wedding but now you realize, he never intended on doing so.

“It was a trick,” you slide the engagement ring down your finger, carelessly dropping it to the floor. “You tricked me. When I came to you, telling you after that drunken one-night stand who I am you took the opportunity to snake your way into my life.” Laughing bitterly, you close your eyes, calming your nerves for a moment.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Dean grunts, not missing the tremble in your voice or the way your lips quiver.

“Newsflash, Winchester,” your eyes are cold when you open them again. “I’m not undercover. I don’t have any connections to cops or feds. All I got is a retired godmother who hates her former job,” you shake your head, not believing you were foolish enough to believe you found your alpha.

“I want you gone, now. I’ll drop your shit at any place but go before I change my mind and kill you,” the gun in Dean’s hands leaves no room for arguments so you turn your back on him, forget the good news and happiness.

“I hate you, Dean. For once I believed someone didn’t try to use me to his advantage. Sadly, I was wrong all over again. If I ever see you again, you’ll regret it,” you leave the room, flee toward the exit almost bumping into Sam.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Sam gasps seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “What happened? Wait…wait up…”

“Ask your asshole of a brother. Keep that piece of shit away from me or he’s dead…” you spat, pushing the omega you let out only for Dean back into the pit of your existence.

“Two months and you found a whole lot of nothing, Dean,” Sam leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Jesus, Y/N didn’t lie. Ellen Harvelle retired fifteen years ago, got a bar called ‘the roadhouse’ and doesn’t give any cop a discount,” Benny sighs, looking at Charlie who shrugs.

“Boss, I didn’t find any trace. No bugs, manipulated e-mails, calls to unknown numbers. I got nothing either,” Charlie clears her throat, shoving a manila folder toward Dean. “Ellen Harvelle is clean, just like her daughter. Y/N didn’t contact anyone but you, Ellen, your brother, and her doctor.”

“Doctor,” cocking a brow Dean looks at the folder. “Maybe that doctor is a cop?” Sam scoffs, pushing off the wall. He looks at his brother shaking his head before he turns to leave the room.

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Sam throws his hands up in surrender. “You chased the only girl who never cared about your reputation or money away. Your omega, Dean! How could you be that stupid?”

“She’s a traitor! I just know it,” Dean yells now, not giving in. “It must be or else I would’ve…”

“Yeah, lost the only woman you ever loved. You and your hasty decisions, Dean. I wonder if she would ever take your stubborn ass back,” Sam slams the door shut behind him, not caring his brother will be mad at him.

“Five and a half month later,

Most of the days are good days. Well, not good, but you get through them without crying or your instinct telling you to crawl back to Dean.

Today is not such a day. Today you stand in the middle of a shop for synthetic scents. “How can I help you, ma’am,” a young boy asks, and you wonder if he’s old enough to work at such a place. “I know I look young, but I know my job. I’m Jack Kline and would like to help you.”

“I need a scent,” you swallow the lump in your throat, slowly opening your coat. “My alpha, he left me. I’m an abandoned omega, a pregnant one. The first months I could get by without his scent, but it gets worse.”

“We will need a blood sample of you. This way we can find a matching scent to make you feel more comfortable, ma’am,” the young man smiles, pointing toward a chair. “It won’t hurt, promised. You are not the only one coming here. Even strong and tall alphas come her to get a scent.”

“I’m not ashamed, just…,” you shrug, not knowing how to describe the loneliness or how it feels to know your child will never get to know his father. Even worse, that you were simply a pawn in Dean Winchester’s masterplan. “Just tell me what I must do.”

“Hello, I’m looking for a specific scented candle,” an alpha calls for Jack. “My mate, she’s so in love with that scent…” Sam stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Jack who wants to push a needle into your arm. “Whoa, hands-off, bastard.”

Sam aims a gun at Jack’s head, unlocking it. “Get away from Y/N or you are dead before you can hurt her. How can you be that stupid to attack Dean Winchester’s mate in the middle of a store?”

“Sam,” you scream, jumping up to shield the boy with your body. “He wanted to take a blood sample, not kill me. Are you crazy?” you pant, resting one hand onto your belly.

“Y/N?” Sam’s eyes drop to your baby bump and his features soften. “You’re expecting. Oh-fuck, no. Does Dean know?”

“Why should the great and all-knowing Dean Winchester be interested in getting to know he got me pregnant with his child before he threatened to kill me. Let me tell you this, Sam Winchester,” you get your favorite knife out of your garter, pressing the tip into Sam’s chest. “If you tell him you saw me or the pup in my belly, you are dead. Now leave me alone. I need this scent…”

“You’re suffering, Y/N,” ignoring Sam’s words and his worried look you turn your attention back toward Jack. “Let me help you.”

“There is nothing you can do, Sam. It’s done. Whatever Dean and I had, is dead and gone since he threatened to kill me. I should’ve known he used me. No alpha wants to wait until the wedding to claim his mate,” you wave your hand, sending Sam off. “I’m only a loose end to your brother. If you excuse me now…”

“Not that bad,” you sniff at the pillow before you add more of the synthetic scent onto the clothes on your nest. “It’s not your fathers but it’ll do,” you rub your belly, watching one of your dog’s lie next to the bed. “Good boy, always so protective, Morning.”

Your German shepherd whines, before slowly getting up to trot toward the door. “Star,” you call for your dog when Morning dashes out of the room to attack whoever dared to enter your apartment.

“Get off me you son of a bitch,” Dean barks, fighting your dogs. Whilst Morning circles the mobster like prey, Star already sinks her teeth into his pants, tugging at the fabric, tearing it apart. “Y/N, tell the dogs to back off.”

“Morning, Star, kill him,” voice cold you cover your body with your blanket, ignoring Dean calls your name, begs you to stop your dogs.

“I will kill them if you do not stop them,” snarling Dean gets his gun out and you click your tongue. “Morning, Star, come here, protect mommy.”

“Fucking shit, Y/N,” Dean limps into your bedroom, glaring at the dogs who flank your bed. Teeth gritted, eyes following the alpha the German shepherds protect you and your unborn child. “Good dogs. Fine dogs. I got a steak in my trunk.”

“What do you want here?” you do not turn around, rather snuggle into your pillow to inhale the synthetic scent Jack gave you. “I thought I clarified you are dead if you ever come close to me again.”

“That’s my child inside of you. Now be good and pack your things,” Dean purrs, looking at you. He believes your omega will give in, will follow his order but you chuckle at his words, clicking your tongue.

“No…no…not again!” Star pounces on Dean, pushes him to the ground with her weight. “Y/N, please tell that beast to get off me.”

“Morning, give him the rest,” Morning trots toward Dean, purring for a moment before he starts to lick Dean’s face. “Yes, lick the falseness off his ugly face.”

“Eek, that’s disgusting. Tell the furry beasts to leave me alone. I’m still your alpha,” you snicker silently when you turn around to watch Star grit her teeth to attack your former alphas crotch. “No, please…shit…take that dog off me or I’ll shoot the beast.”

“Star, kill his manhood,” you smirk, watching Dean look at you in horror. “Do it slow, baby. He likes it when you tease him a little, take him deep enough to tickle my throat.”

CHOOSE YOUR ENDING UNDER THE CUT.

Bad ending…

“Y/N, I know I hurt you but please, give me the chance to explain that I made a stupid mistake. Please, I still love you and I want to raise my child with you,” Dean pleas but you are too hurt to ever forgive Dean.

“No, Dean. I gave up everything to be with you. I never even thought about betraying you. If you would love me, you…,” your voice cracks and you need to take a deep breath before you face Dean. “No one who loves his omega forces her to leave and threatens her life. I want you to go and never come back. To me you are only a loose end from now on…”

Alternative ending…

“You had your fun, sweetheart. Now tell the dogs to get off me,” you smirk, humming to yourself. “Baby? That wasn’t the plan!”

“It wasn’t yours,” you swing your legs out of the bed to kneel next to Dean, looking at your alpha. His face covered in slobber; pants ripped apart he looks up at you. “You know, when you told me you’ve got a rat in your organization and that you need to know I’m safe, I didn’t plan on spending months hidden in a shabby apartment, Winchester.”

“I found the culprit,” Dean points toward Star, whining when she opens her mouth, revealing sharp teeth. “Baby, please…”

“I don’t know, Dean. Seeing you so helpless underneath an omega makes me feel so good,” you smirk, sliding your hand over his chest. “I had to buy a synthetic scent, Dean.”

“It was for your safety, Y/N. Now let me get up and scent my omega. I need to have you back in my arms,” one click of your tongue later your dogs relax, even lick Dean’s face again. “No…fuck, …no…eek! I’m no food…”

——-

“So…,” you rest your head onto Dean’s chest, patting his thigh, “you found the big bad guy?”

“Girl,” humming you close your eyes, inhaling Dean’s scent deeply. “Sorry, I know that I promised to come back sooner. It’s been a hell of a month. I never thought it was Amara who rats us out.”

“I’ve missed you, is all. Why didn’t you tell Sam about the rat? Why only me?” you look up at Dean who gives you a soft smile. “Dean?”

“It had to look realistic. I needed the traitor to believe you are out of the picture and that I think you are the one who told the cops about our plans,” Dean pecks your hair, thankful he finally has you back in his arms. “Sammy is mad at me, though.”

“Figures, alpha,” you yawn, relaxing in Dean’s arms. “He’s your brother and wants you to trust him unconditionally.”

“This wasn’t about trust; it was about protecting you and not involving anyone else. Sam, he would’ve insisted on keeping an eye on you or to help me. I had to play my role well, get my brother and anyone loving you mad at me.”

“In other words, you made a hasty decision and didn’t want to stop when you realized it was a dumb idea. You know, in your office I wanted to rip your head off. It felt so real my inner omega was hurt,” Dean sniffles, looking at you.

“Tomorrow, I’ll bring you home. You and the two killers you call your pets,” you nod, wanting nothing more than to finally reunite with your alpha…

Tags in reblog

#One loose end #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #angst #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #MOBSTER!AU #mobsterdean #mobster!dean x reader #mobster au #mobster!dean #mobster!dean x you #mobster!dean winchester x reader #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x reader #alpha!dean x omegareader #alpha!dean

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years ago

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Hellooo,

I would love to see your take on Tenzin acting jealous when he sees Lin subtly flirting with someone else some time after their break-up, realising he might not be completely over his feelings for her, even though he already plans to marry Pema.

Hope you have some fun with this :)

Hmm… here’s my take on that prompt. 🤔 Not sure it worked well but here you go.

---

To the common Republic City citizen, they were simply standing side by side each other. A man and a woman making their way around the room, greeting, and conversing with people. There was nothing untoward about it.

Except, there was.

“Remove your frown, dear. It ruins the charming picture.” His date to the event whispered from his side, while he himself hooked her arm around his.

“I’m not frowning.” Tenzin responded, frowning down at Pema.

“Sure, you aren’t.” Pema placated him with a smile. It was obvious to him she was humoring him. “We’ve come this far and this long – don’t make it for naught.”

There was some wisdom in what his fiancée was saying but – his eyes continued to follow a certain earthbender around the room – it was an impulse at this point.

There she was – in her blue ankle length dress that shimmered under the ballroom’s light due to its silvery embroidery – looking all too pleased with that visiting envoy beside her. Even as Pema guided him to their table, Tenzin was able to track where Lin Beifong was. At present, the pair (Tenzin refused to call them a couple) was talking to one of the local businessmen.

What caught his attention was not what they were doing but what Lin was not doing.

The envoy’s arm was lightly draped over Lin’s shoulder and Lin was not even shrugging it off.

The man would occasionally dip his head closer to Lin’s ear and whisper to her. It did not seem to bother her either. Instead, she would quirk the corner of her lips, a sure sign of pleasure – and not the feigned kind either.

Pema tapped his arm after they have been served drinks, excusing herself to bring their donation envelopes to one of the main tables to submit them to the event organizer.

He nodded absentmindedly, stirring the ice in his drink before resuming his quiet observation of his former partner.

Lin and the envoy had made their way to the tables at the opposite end of the room, being stopped occasionally by people who engaged them in conversation.

Tenzin moved seats at the still empty table so he could see them more clearly. It did occur to him he was behaving crudely and oddly. Nonetheless, he could not find it in himself to care about common pleasantries or etiquette. There was too much on the line.

Meanwhile, Lin was oblivious to his presence.

To a common observer, she was all proper and even maybe stiff.

Tenzin was no common observer.

He saw the gentle touches to the arm of the man, the inclining of her head as she paid attention to what he was saying, the expression on her face that could mean she was biting her cheek in amusement.

She was enjoying the man’s company.

---

The rest of the dinner was tolerable.

Pema and he were joined by two more pairs – a pair of colleagues and a husband and wife. The conversation was mundane at best though the food made up well for it.

At least, that was the consensus around the table. He would have to take their word for it. He did not particularly pay attention to the multi-course meal the charity dinner offered.

---

There was a lull in the conversation when the program that was on-going winded down. And the guests started to leave their tables and mingle.

Pema took the opportunity to excuse herself to go to the powder room before they left. The tablemates likewise excused themselves to join some of their co-workers and family.

Tenzin saw the blue-clad earthbender wander off to one of the outdoor alcoves, detaching herself from her present company.

He left his table to follow her without any form of hesitation.

---

Even if Lin had her back towards him, he saw by the tensing of her shoulders that she recognized his presence.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you see that man – he was taking advantage of you.” Tenzin asked and stated without preamble.

“That was cute when we were together.” Lin turned to face him, arms crossed. “Now, it’s just inappropriate.”

“Cute? You’re calling me cute?”

“Were. Note the past tense.” She faced the outdoors once again, leaning on the balustrade, a picture of nonchalance. “Figures that’s what you got out of that.”

“He’s flirting with you.” He did not know why he said it (or he did but he did not want to explore that). “That’s not good for the optics.” He knew just how to bait her, he wanted to draw her attention back to him. He waited for her to deny his claims.

But she didn’t.

“And what is it to you?”

So she did enjoy the man's attentions. Tenzin hoped he was mistaken earlier but apparently not.

“Lin, please – I – it’s not serious, is it?”

“Isn’t that rich coming from you? You’re the one who is engaged.” Her bright eyes flashed at him, the eyebrows furrowing in barely hidden anger.

Tenzin maintained eye contact, pursing his lips as he decided how to respond.

He could have told her about how the White Lotus had been on his case about marriage.

How he had tried to shield her from those pressures as much as he could.

How the White Lotus was not only adamant about securing him in matrimony but also ensuring that his bride would be well enough to carry an heir to term within their first year of marriage. Never mind that said potential bride might have her own life plans and her own decision asked on the matter.

How he had drawn the line at the archaic organization at summoning her to take medical tests to prove her viability.

How he had circumvented the threats that he knew were about to arrive and ruin both of their careers and reputation. He knew how important being part of the metalbending police is to Lin. He did not want her to have to make a decision.

How he had concocted a plan with his mother and several trust-worthy acolytes to feign an engagement to an acceptable woman to bide them some time while he sought to find a loophole in the scrolls and documents relating to the White Lotus (they could not be that powerful, can they as to meddle in Air Nomad culture?).

How he thought it was best to keep her out of the loop and had chosen her safety and security and thus breaking her heart.

And in turn breaking his own.

Instead, what he said was

“I hope he makes you happy.”

The surprise on Lin's face was unmistakable. He cringed inwardly. Had he been that of a boor that any well-meaning words from him was unimaginable?

---

Lin Beifong left the ballroom in the arms of the same envoy she was with.

He told himself it did not matter.

Who she decides to go home with or spend time with was of no consequence to him.

It did not matter.

But, it did.

--‐------

Note: It kinda went on a somber route that I didn’t expect. What do you think though? I don’t think Lin would be the kind to outright do some obvious flirting..but that’s just my opinion :)

#linzin #linzin fanfic #writing prompts maybe #toccatina completed #tenzin #lin beifong #toccatina's fanfics

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